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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929433">Happens Great, Happens Sweet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiel_ambrose/pseuds/castiel_ambrose'>castiel_ambrose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Assassin's Creed - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Blood, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:53:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiel_ambrose/pseuds/castiel_ambrose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s not… we haven’t been together that long. But I want you. I want to have you and show you that I am yours just as you are mine. Please don’t leave me without that satisfaction.”</p><p>Arno had never been proper; you knew that. He drank like a demon, gambled, and would sacrifice himself unnecessarily so often that you thought he wished to be remembered as a martyr rather than a man. But he was so sincere and caring about his words that you knew they were true. And it would be a sin to lie and say you didn’t feel the same way, hadn’t for so long. It was with breath in your chest and love in your heart that you nodded.</p><p>“Make me yours, <i>mon cher</i>.”<br/>----<br/>Gender Neutral Reader x Arno, complete NSFW</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arno Dorian/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Happens Great, Happens Sweet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by and title taken from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4rKN_qW5DU">Wasteland Baby!</a> by Hozier</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When you had started working in the Café Théâtre, Arno hadn’t paid you much mind, though you couldn’t but help to wonder about this man in a hood who would leave for days at a time and come back asking for hot water and cloth to be brought up to his room while he subtly limped up the stairs. It was on one of those occasions a few months into your employment when you were given the task, balancing a bowl of boiling water and a clean rag as you knocked on the door bedroom door.</p><p>“<em>Monsieur </em>Dorian? I have what you asked for.” There was no answer, and you stood there for a minute longer before knocking again. A moment of hesitation went through you, wondering what to do, before realizing the water would go cold if you left it to wait. And if he was injured and couldn’t get up…</p><p>“I’m coming in!” You called through the door, realizing it was unlocked. The inside of the room was… rather nice. A fire was burning in the marble fireplace already, tucked away in the corner of the room. His bed was rumpled, despite the fact that he hadn’t been here for days, and you couldn’t help but glance at it and the rest of the figures in the room as you held the bowl close to your chest. Your back was turned when you heard the slightest footsteps.</p><p>“<em>Monsieur </em>Dorian! I brought-” You turned, relieved, though it quickly turned to a choked gasp as he stepped out from behind a divider, bare as the day he was born and letting what God graced him with hanging out for everyone to see. Alarm quickly flashed in his brown eyes, and before you could think, he had grabbed a cloth shirt hanging nearby and held it in front of him.</p><p>“What the Hell?!” He almost sounded to be on the falling edge of panic, and you were quick to meet him.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, forgive me, I called through the door, and you didn’t answer. I have… have your water.” You held it out as a meager offering, willing yourself to look anywhere that wasn’t below his chest. The chest was something else you absolutely could <em> not </em> slip out on as well, but it was hard to ignore…</p><p>“Just put it there.” He gestured with his head to a side table, and you were quick to go over, head ducked. Some force made you turn your head, maybe curiosity or a willingness to die, and you glanced over Arno’s back. Scars and bruises lined it up and down, some old and faded, some fresh. </p><p>“Did you need help?”</p><p>“What?” He turned, shirt still in place with one hand as he tried to put on his breeches with the other. Your eyes dutifully went to a spot over his head.</p><p>“Your, um… Cleaning. Or what you needed the water for.” Your boldness surprised you, but it was only the nice thing to do considering. He paused for a minute, glancing at you before his eyes darted away as well, and he turned.</p><p>“No, no, it’s quite alright. Thank you. You can go.” You couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach but nodded all the same, properly taking your leave. You could swear you felt those brown eyes on you a third time as you left for the door, but merely hid a shiver and said nothing as you closed the door behind you.</p>
<hr/><p>That had been almost a year ago to the day, and things had changed since then. Notably, now you rarely shied away from when he came back from his missions -- assassinations, you had learned, and though it scared you, one look in Arno’s eyes as he hesitantly told you showed you that it never changed anything about him.</p><p>
  <em> “If you do it for the betterment of the world, and you believe it, then… I’ll still welcome you back.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “If I don’t believe it? If I doubt why I do it? What does that mean, then?” The smallest waver overtook his voice, and it hurt your heart to hear it. You grabbed his hand, feeling the callouses from long days of training and fighting and climbing as you stroked it with your thumb. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Then it means you’re Arno Dorian. And I still love you.” Your voice was a whisper; the first time you let yourself confess the truth, you had known for a while now.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His eyes widened, and you saw the smallest tremor in his lips before he leaned in and hugged you tightly, head burrowing into the point where your neck and shoulder met. He was quiet for a long time before speaking again, soft and slow. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Je t'aime, mon coeur.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You hid the smallest smile in his hair, the moon the only witness to this strange but loving union. </em>
</p><p>Since then, you found yourself spending more time in his room than the servant’s quarters on the days and nights when he was over. Sometimes it wasn’t even for comfort after a mission; it was merely to share some wine and speak until the morning light began to peek shyly into the windows. Unfortunately, this time it was for medical purposes, Templars having been rougher to your brave Assassin than usual. He peeled off his cloak and undershirt, blood already soaking through the material in the cloak, and you made a note to soak them once you finished patching him up. The worst of it was a slice on his bicep, deeper than you thought and requiring stitches, which you always hated.</p><p>“<em>Mon Dieu, </em>Arno.” You couldn’t help scolding as you pressed a hot, salty-wet cloth to the wound, almost taking grim satisfaction in the way he jumped. “You know that you’re meant to avoid the pointy end of a sword, right? Not jump onto it?”</p><p>“Y/N, jumping into and onto things is a great portion of my lifestyle.” He smirked a bit at you, and you dunked the cloth into the water before pressing it on his arm a little harder this time.</p><p>“Arno. Please.” You met his eyes, and something in them made the smirk fall a touch, his face softening and becoming more earnest.</p><p>“I’m sorry, <em> mon amour</em>. I rarely had anyone to care for me in such a manner. Sometimes… I forget what it’s like for someone not a part of this life to be involved anyway.”</p><p>“I’m here for you, Arno. Really.” You smiled, voice a bit gentler than before. Things were quiet as you finished cleaning the wound, moving to get the thread, and a needle from the other side of the room. He was sat at the table, and you pulled the chair over to be closer to him, facing him and close enough to make out the details of his face… Not that you weren’t unfamiliar with it in the slightest. “Are you going to be a big boy and stay still while I patch you up?”</p><p>“Do I get a sweet if I do as you say?” He teased, and you sent an exasperated but loving look.</p><p>“You can get a kiss.”</p><p>“Just one?”</p><p>“Perhaps more.” You teased as well before you concentrated further and stuck the needle into his skin. The first few times you had done this under his instruction, you had to will your hands not to shake despite his calming words. You were still a bundle of nerves the whole time but continued to power through it. He flinches a few times but soothed out soon enough, quiet up until the end as you cut the thread and knotted it. “How was that?”</p><p>He moved his arm around, trying to judge the feeling, and smiled. “It’s perfect.”</p><p>You let out a breath of relief and smiled back. “Good. Not that I wish to perfect my skills, but it’s nice to know I won’t damage you more than you seem to do to yourself.”</p><p>“You could never.” He was amused, but earnest. “Now… about my kisses?”</p><p>“Let me put the kit aside, you brute-!” You barely put it on the table before he grabbed you with reserved strength you rarely saw, pulling you from your chair onto his lap, a gasp sounding off your last words. “Arno, your arm-”</p><p>“I barely feel the pain.” He admitted before grabbing your chin gently and pulling you into a kiss. It gave you as many goosebumps now as it did then, and your eyes closed as you allowed yourself to only focus on the feel of his lips, the way his fingers skimmed your jaw and left a feeling of fire in their wake. He was insistent but ever gentle in a way he normally wasn’t in his day to day life, and you found yourself drawn into it like the finest wine until you were forced to break apart from him, catching your breath.</p><p>“I- I have to soak your clothes, Arno, the blood-”</p><p>“You’re going to leave me like this?” He murmured, stroking a thumb over your bottom lip. He took a breath and wet his lips in uncharacteristic nervousness over what he was to say next. “Y/N, I…”</p><p>“Tell me.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, waiting eagerly.</p><p>“It’s not… we haven’t been together that long. But I want you. I want to have you and show you that I am yours just as you are mine. Please don’t leave me without that satisfaction.”</p><p>Arno had never been proper; you knew that. He drank like a demon, gambled, and would sacrifice himself unnecessarily so often that you thought he wished to be remembered as a martyr rather than a man. But he was so sincere and caring about his words that you knew they were true. And it would be a sin to lie and say you didn’t feel the same way, hadn’t for so long. It was with breath in your chest and love in your heart that you nodded.</p><p>“Make me yours, <em> mon cher</em>.”</p><p>He smiled and dragged you back in for one more kiss before standing, grip on you tight enough to steady you, so you didn’t fall to the floor. His grip slid from your waist, and his hand held yours as he brought you back to his bed -- now made thanks to your work earlier -- and gently pushed you to lay down on it. He was only wearing his breeches and boots, and you were still wearing your uniform. You quickly sat up and made to undress, uncaring, but he stopped you and pushed you back down, so you got the hint just to watch. </p><p>He took the time to undress you himself, hands dragging gently over every inch of skin exposed and taking the time to kiss it. He was on your neck, the scrape of his two-day-old stubble burning your skin before you gathered the sense to speak.</p><p>“Arno- <em> Oh, Arno</em>- Tell me you’re going to take off your clothes or allow me to take them off; you’re much too overdressed.” You managed to gasp out, and when he pulled away, you saw even in the low candlelight just how disheveled he was, his eyes darkened.</p><p>“I thought you’d never ask.” He grinned, pulling back to sit between your legs as he quickly worked off his boots, kicking them to the side and unlacing his breeches immediately and letting them fall off as you zeroed in on his prick, already almost risen completely.</p><p>“No drawers?”</p><p>“They ride up when you’re climbing.”</p><p>“Fuck, you’ll send me to an early grave walking around like that. Others’ll be jealous.”</p><p>Arno chuckled. “Good thing I only have eyes for one.” He knelt between your legs again before pausing. “Y/N, have you… ever had a man?”</p><p>Your cheeks burned as you glanced away from him. “No, not… Never.”</p><p>“It’s okay.” His voice filled with something soft, and you turned back to look at him, noting it was in his eyes as well. “I’m going to take such good care of you, I promise.”</p><p>“Ruin me for any other man.” You whispered, suddenly emboldened by his words, and the softness had a tinge of hunger in it now.</p><p>“As you wish. You’ll like this, I promise.” He said before lowering himself in between your legs, and you gave a jolt as you felt his tongue start to work you over, exploratory at first before he put on more pressure, holding your thighs as he did.</p><p>“<em>Fuck </em>, Arno!” You felt the pressure building up in you, like a low hum in your stomach, and it almost crested by the time he pulled away. You could have kicked him for that but saw he was handling his fully erect prick, intent clear until he paused, seemingly coming back to himself as he nudged closer to you.</p><p>“Are you ready? I won’t hurt you, Y/N.” It was a tender moment, and you almost appreciated it, but the want for pleasure was overcoming almost everything else.</p><p>“I’m alright. Keep- Keep going.” You nodded, and he returned it before going back down and slowly inserting himself, no more than a few millimeters at a time before he was fully seated in you. Faintly in your mix of pleasure and pain, you became aware of his hands holding yours, and out of instinct, interlocked your fingers, pulling him down slowly so your hands were pinned into the mattress and so he was on top of you. His weight was a wonderful pressure on your chest and body, and your lips met again as he thrust in and out, slowly but gradually picking up speed.</p><p>Curses and gasps and endearments were shared between both of you as it became too great to bear, your release coming like a wave over you even as you tried to hold it back to make it last longer. His hips stuttered before he came as well, his spend filling you up. You both lay there, panting for a while as you struggled to catch your breath. You were sticky with sweat, and he was the same, hair having escaped his ponytail and some of it clinging to the sides of his face.</p><p>He pulled out of you, and you winced at the lack of him and the new chill accompanying you. The cold left as he pulled you closer, ignoring anything else as he fussed and pulled the sheets over both of you.</p><p>“Do you require anything? Y/N?” His voice was quiet but worried, and you managed to lift your head from his chest to give him a small, blissed-out smile.</p><p>“I just need you.”</p><p>The worry left him, and he gave a quiet laugh. “And you will have me, Y/N. Forever, if you’re agreeable to that.”</p><p>“I see no problems.” You murmured as you felt yourself fade, lulled by his fingers stroking your hair. A final thought passed through your mind, and you almost jolted up, were it not for him holding you down. “Damn, your clothes…”</p><p>“That can wait until tomorrow. Sleep, <em> mon amour</em>. <em> Je t'aime. </em>”</p><p>“<em> Je t’aime</em>, Arno.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, leave a comment, kudos or stop by my <a href="https://straight-into-the-animus.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> where I'm always taking new prompt ideas (Shipping or otherwise, I'm even happy to pop out headcanons or short ficlets) or always open for a chat! Thank you and have an amazing day! Safety and peace!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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